I was pleased with my hair done up. It looked much nicer, I thought, than just tied behind with a ribbon. And with the stockings and the satin slippers and the dress. I was pleased with my bare neck and arms. I had a dark blue enamel bracelet that was almost black, and a little necklace of yellow topaz, that my father had brought back from India for me when I was a baby.
Then Cousin Delia came in to see me, and she turned me round and round, and then she kissed me, smiling as though she were pleased.
‘Dear heart,’ she said.
I put the Spanish shawl round my shoulders: I loved its many colours and its softness and we went downstairs.
They were mostly there already, standing about in the hall. Hugo was in the furthest corner talking to Anthony Cowper and Faith Vincent. Guy was standing at the foot of the stairs with Claude. They looked up at us as we came down. Cousin Delia came first, and I followed her. The candles were not lit yet, for it was still broad daylight, but the hall seemed filled with light, as though it were illuminated—coming down into it, with its flowers, from the shadow of the stairs. They both looked up at me and smiled.
Guy said:
‘That’s splendid, Helen. You do look nice’—and he too looked pleased.
I laughed and went past them into the hall, and as I passed I heard Claude say to Guy:
‘I say, Guy, that little cousin of yours is a beauty!’
And I felt all warm and glowing, and as though I was stepping on air. I ran across to Hugo, and he turned to look at me.